In the pale moonlight of an early December dawn, Henry Chambers was deep fucking his panting wife for the third time that night. Prudence lay eagerly beneath her husband as he pummeled her well ploughed furrow with the urgent stabbings of an oncoming spend. His sweat laden face was pressed against her right cheek as she urged him on in their animalistic passion and the need to reach their climax in unison.
Prudence sensed his loss of rhythm and lifted herself higher so that her woolen stockinged thighs drew him closer into her core and her ankles bounced on his pounding backside to bring him home. "Henry, love," she gasped, the delicious melting pot deep within her beginning to blaze into a burning furnace. "Keep on. The moment is near. Ahhh. Your cock feels so deep inside me. Ahhh. Ahhhhh.. ohhhhhhh!!"
Prudence felt the apple sized head of his member growing larger and larger as her husband fucked on and on. Such was his vigor, he had pushed them both higher up the double bed and the oak paneled headboard was now thumping against the bedroom wall in tribute to their mating. Thump, thump, thump. Prudence whispered to her husband. "H.. Henry. Oh. Wait! You'll wake the house!"
Henry just grunted. His whole world was centered on the length of flesh that was surging in and out of his wife's sex. He gave a sudden gasp and buried himself right up to the hilt as the delirium of his climax washed over him and he felt his wife bite down onto his right shoulder as she rode the wave with him. He promptly collapsed with a groan into the pillow as Prudence giggled in his ear as he saluted his final spurt of his spunk with a resounding fart that rattled around the bedroom. "Bravo, husband!" she breathed, kissing his cheek. "A worthy salute for such a noble effort!"
Henry groaned as he raised himself from covering his wife and eased himself from the depth of her sex and between her damp thighs. Breathing deeply, he lay beside her staring up into the blue darkness above them. "Be sated beloved," he muttered as the banging drum in his chest slowed to its natural order. "I doubt the flesh between my legs can muster another stand this night even if the mind is willing." He reached for his spent cock and winced at the sharp rawness along its shrinking length due to the friction caused by the embedded need for sensible precaution.
Prudence got up and dashed naked to her dresser where a jug of water and a bowl stood with a clean cloth to dry her. Bending over, she reached between her thighs and carefully examined her sex. "Thrice this night is more than enough, Henry," she smiled as she took the end of the string that hung down from the opening to her pussy and pulled it gently so that the hidden roll of tied spunk soaked sponge slid from the depths of her passage and out with a soft "plop." She glanced towards the double bed where she saw Henry watching her. She blushed slightly and turned to dump the evidence of male lust into a small box so that she could dispose of it later when propriety allowed.
"Once is a delight, twice is a joy," she smiled. "Three times is never a chore. Especially submitting my sex to as fine and large a cock as yours." Prudence poured a small measure of water into the bowl and dipped the cloth into it. She then cleaned the sweat and oily remnants of his spend from around her crotch and arsehole which was still throbbing urgently after her number two fucking. Once done, she returned to his side and drew the blankets around them for the chill of Winter was beginning to win the battle over the heat of their coupling.
Henry closed his eyes for that warm post sex ache was washing him to sleep. "What plans for the 'morrow, dearest?" he asked as he felt his mind drifting into the ether.
Prudence snuggled in closer. "Do you remember Miss Armitage?" she replied.
"The widow?" he frowned.
"Um huh," she nodded as she lent closer and inhaled the smell of him. "Our paths crossed again last week during a society reading trip to Millers bookstore in Westingtons. A pleasant surprise as I haven't seen her in over a month and it must be nearly four months since her husbands funeral. I suspect the poor woman needed time to get over the shock and the change in her social situation. So we have arranged to meet in one of the Tea rooms up Petticoat Lane and renew our acquaintances over a cup of their finest brew and scones." Prudence stared thoughtfully up into the dark. "Such a sad thing for her to go through at such an age. I wonder how life finds her these days." she wondered.
Henry mumbled dreamily as the sound of her voice lulled him into the land of nod.
*
The following day found Prudence sat in a window seat looking out at the hustle and bustle of Petticoat street market where the tide of London life ebbed and flowed as its citizens went about the drudge of daily living in order to sell their wares or spend their coin. The air was crisp, the weather fine, and the world a pristine white in a blanket of over night snow. Across from Prudence sat the widow Miss Armitage who still wore the black mourning shawl over her heavy tweed coat. Prudence watched as she lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip of piping hot tea.
"At least the wind is in a favorable direction this day," she sniffed. "The smell from the Thames has been quite something these past few days. Goodness knows what it must be like in the vicinity of the slaughter houses and fisheries. I swear I'd have to walk out and about with a peg on my nose!" She made a face and blushed slightly for the older woman was looking at her with a warm smile and sympathy in her eyes. She shook her head and raised a gloved hand. "Honestly, Prudence, I am well on the mend. Time as they say does work its magic and even the saddest heart can be over come. Life goes on."
Prudence reached and took her hand. "Never think you face that life alone, Lizzie. You and Albert were always considered good company among those who knew you both well or not. And you are correct, life does go on and whatever challenges fate has in store for us we must meet them with a firm jaw and good grace. Who knows," she smiled. "One of those whims of fate may be a new relationship."
Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Oh goodness no, Prudence. Perish the thought of having to go back into the cock and bull of courtship again. I have no desire to partake the ritual of society match making and that nervous expectation of disappointment again. I am a plain Jane, Prudence, I thought I was done with all that frivolity when Albert found me. He has left me with a tidy estate upon which to live my widowhood. I have a number of pursuits with which to fill my day."
Prudence gave her hand a squeeze and nodded. "You always were a book worm."
Lizzie looked at her companion over the rim of her cup. "Though..." she began, hesitantly. Her gaze drifting to the window. "There are, " she paused. "Things..."
"Hmmmm?" replied Prudence as she nibbled on a strawberry jam covered scone.